Anna's Nightdress
by DowagerInTraining
Summary: Anna has always envied Lady Mary's beautiful clothes and is delighted to receive a gift of a beautiful nightgown, which she intends to embroider herself. And after meeting Lord Grantham's new valet, Mr Bates, she knows there is only one man she ever wants to see her wearing it. Rated M for Chapter 5! DISCLAIMER: I do not own Downton Abbey, but it is fun to borrow!
1. Chapter 1

The Gift

"What do you think Anna?"

Anna thought the same thing as she did about most of Mary's clothes. Beautiful. Delicate. Infinitely expensive.

"It's lovely, milady."

"I think Papa's going to need a lie down in a darkened room when the bill comes home from this trip to London, but I simply need everything for the season this year."

Anna pondered the definition of need, as Mary signed for the account at Hartnell's. Anna needed her job, a bed to sleep in, food to eat, the certainty of continued existence. Mary's needs seemed far wider, more worldy and expensive beyond Anna's wildest dreams.

Mary picked the nightdress up for a final inspection as the assistant folded things into their dress box. In an uncharacteristic fit of sensitivity, she caught the expression of longing on Anna's face.

"Did you see anything you would like for yourself? For Christmas this year?"

Anna's face burned. She had long since given up her jealousy of Mary's wardrobe, a fantasy that belonged in the fancy story magazines that Daisy loved to read, not worth even daydreaming about.

"I'm not sure I'd ever have call to wear something so fancy Milady."

The nightdress was beautiful. Fragile, feminine, dripping with lace and trimmed with ribbons. As far removed from Anna's old flannel gown as possible.

"Well… if you change your mind before Christmas, do let me know."

"If there's…"

"Yes?"

Anna bit her lip and plunged in before her good sense could silence her.

"Well… it would be nice to have a new nightgown. Not one so fine and thin as yours perhaps, but something…"

Mary's eyebrow rose as she smiled. "Something a little pretty?"

"Well… yes Milady. I know that no one would ever see it except me, and Gwen since she shares my room. But it would be nice. Just to have something pretty that was mine. Private, like."

"I know exactly what you mean."

Mary swept up her gloves and handbag, signing the final bill with a flourish.

"We shall see what Father Christmas can provide," she gave Anna a conspiratorial wink.

For the first time in years, Anna began to look forward to Christmas

…

A few weeks later, there was a parcel delivered to the back door for Anna. Unwrapping it in the privacy of her room, Anna discovered a nightdress. Made of lawn material, not transparent thin, but flowing and graceful, of better quality than anything Anna had ever seen. The sleeves were simple, dropping a few inches below the shoulders, the sweetheart neckline just the right side of modest. There was a card inside the box. Anna opened it with shaking fingers.

"Christmas was a long time to wait. And I thought you might like to add your own decorations. You have the best eye for 'pretty'. Lady M." There was a small note included, informing Anna that five pounds in credit awaited her at the small haberdashery shop in Downton.

Five pounds! Five pounds would buy ribbons and lace to content the most ruffle starved heart. Holding up the gown to see the length of it, Anna began to plan where she would add bows and knots of ribbon and strips of lace to create the most gorgeous confection of a nightdress she had ever known.

There was a knock at the door.

"Anna?"

Anna whirled to see Mrs Hughes coming in.

"I just wondered where you had... heavens! What's that you've got there?"

"It's ... a gift, Mrs Hughes. I was just putting it away safely."

"Well, I must say, that looks very fine. Mind you do put it safely now. Now, come give me a hand along the next corridor. His lordship has settled on a new valet, and we're to get his room ready, he'll be here tomorrow..."

Hastily, Anna folded it back safely into the box and ached for her next visit to the village. She wasn't due for a half day for another week or so yet. There was plenty of time to think and plan what she would buy.


	2. Chapter 2

Receiving a Gentleman in her Nightgown

Anna grumbled to herself. She hated being sick.

She had no time to be sick for one thing, there were things that needed doing and she was sure that Gwen would not do them to the same high standard as herself.

She was hungry too, having missed tea and now dinner. It was all well and good for Mrs Hughes to send her off to bed, and she had been good to bring up that Beecham's powder, but servants were so rushed off their feet, they barely had time to think of their companions when they were absent. Anna wondered if Gwen would remember to bring anything up for her before bedtime, when she got back from the fayre.

Missing her meals hadn't bothered her in the past, but they had taken on a new importance since Mr Bates came to Downton Abbey.

Meals were no longer just sustenance. They were a time when she could sit next to him, sharing occasional smiles and small comments, reassured by his solid presence, radiating good sense and intellectual stimulus. Anna blushed to herself, acknowledging that her thoughts sometimes strayed to his warm, physical presence more than they should.

She had tried to read and found her eyes sliding off the page. Her embroidery did not hold her attention, not that she had had time to start any new projects recently. Even the fine, lawn nightgown was still folded away in the bottom of her drawer, awaiting both time and inspiration. She hadn't even worked up the nerve to go into the Haberdashers store in the village yet.

There was a knock at the door outside. The adjoining door between the men's and women's corridor. Bemused, Anna got up, wrapped her shawl around her. Who on earth could this be? It wasn't Mrs Hughes and it didn't sound like Mr Carson.

Opening the door, she heard a voice calling her name.

"Anna!"

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Mr Bates?" Anna pulled the shawl tighter around herself. How shaming that Mr Bates, of all people, should catch her in her nightgown, and not even her one decent one!

"Can you open the door?"

"I daren't! No-one can open that door except Mrs Hughes!

"Just for a moment, I've brought you something."

What had he brought her? Anna screwed up her courage and grabbed the key, unlocking the door.

There stood Mr Bates, with a tray. A warm scent wafted up her nose. He had brought everything... stew, bread, butter, some water... Even flowers.

He was smiling at her.

Should she take it?

"I don't know if..."

"Shhhh," Bates smiled at her over the posies.

Anna's knees turned a little weak, in a way which had nothing to do with her flu. She took the tray. A door opened behind Bates, and in a flash, he had gone, saying nothing more. Closing the door, Anna barely made it back to her room before her legs gave out. Setting the tray to one side, Anna cradled her own smile, warmed deep to the pit of her stomach.

He had remembered her. Thought of her. Her fingers traced over the flowers on the tray. It was such a long climb, his poor knee must have ached with every step. And it had all been for her.

A thought played across her mind, lingered in the smile upon her lips. Quietly, she opened the drawer and pulled out the gown.

 _If that ever happens again… if I am ever so lucky that he might see me again before bedtime…_

The thought dropped to her stomach, simmered gently, seeping deep heat into her stomach.

 _I must be prepared. I would love him to see me at my best instead of at my worst, wretched with flu and bundled into old flannel._

With seriousness and patience, Anna planned where the embellishments would go. Firstly, a length of ribbon, woven around the neck, to be tied into a big soft bow. Maybe a white satin one, or a long rosy pink one…


	3. Chapter 3

A Walk To The Village

Anna arrived in the servant's hall just before lunch. A few people were sat, waiting for Mr Carson to announce that it was time to eat. Thomas and O'Brien slipped past her, hoping for a quiet cigarette before the meal was served. Mr Carson hadn't arrived yet, but Mrs Hughes was reading through a letter, while Mr Bates finishing some mending for Lord Grantham. He smiled up at her, saying nothing. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his eyes seemed warmer these days.

"I'm getting a few things from the village later on. Does anybody else need anything?"

There were a few requests. Stamps for Mrs Patmore, who bustled in with a tray of cutlery. Then some shoe polish for Mrs Hughes. A couple of sixpences changed hands to pay for the small items. Deep in her own pocket, Anna ran her fingers over the credit note, feeling oddly nervous.

"I need to pick up one or two things for his Lordship this afternoon. Would you object if I walked with you?"

Anna smiled across the table towards Mr Bates.

 _I wouldn't object if you walked with me to the ends of the earth._

"Of course."

"Good."

The air was damp, but the rain had ceased. Anna slowed her steps to walk alongside Mr Bates. He smiled at her, making small talk, but his eyes seemed sad. Perhaps she had been mistaken about him.

"What did you need to buy? I could have bought it for you if you would rather have stayed at home."

"I don't exactly know yet."

"Now that sounds intriguing."

"I'm…" Anna paused. She had told nobody about her project and wasn't sure she could bring herself to discuss her nightgown with Mr Bates.

"You don't have to tell me if it's private."

"No, it's not that. I'm … starting a new project, a sewing one. I've not decided on the pattern yet. I wanted to go have a look."

"Whatever the project, I am sure it will be beautiful."

Anna's skin tingled all over when he looked at her like that. The silence grew just half a second too long.

"I want to use flowers. I was thinking of daisies."

"Daisies are lovely," he nodded. "I've always liked roses best though."

"Oh?"

"My mother grew them, in a box on her back window. Roses make me think of home."

Anna glanced up sharply. It wasn't like Mr Bates to be so forthcoming about his personal life. She kept her response light and friendly.

"I'm never sure I like them enough, what with their thorns."

"You have to be careful. Get past them slowly, strip them off. But the scent and the softness of the petals are worth it. And roses survive anywhere. Hardy little plants. They never give up."

Anna stared at Mr Bates. He had never volunteered so much personal information in one statement before, and that ache in her stomach returned, responding to the warmth in his eyes, suggesting that he hadn't just been talking about roses.

Anna cleared her throat. The village was up ahead, their walk almost over.

"I need to visit the post office to collect a subscription for Lord Grantham. If you like, I can purchase Mrs Patmore's stamps and Mrs Hughes' polish, to allow you a little more time for your choosing?"

Even through gloves, her fingers burned as they brushed against his hand.

"I shall meet you here, when you are ready to go back."

He tipped his hat to her, walking away.

Anna's heart thudded in her chest, watching him turn the corner, before she turned into the haberdashers.

…

"Can I help you miss?"

The pleasant middle aged lady behind the counter smiled encouragingly at Anna. She was a well known customer, frequently popping in to pick up threads and needles for fixing Lady Mary's clothes.

Anna pulled the little card from her pocket. She swallowed, wetting her lips.

"A fr… my employer arranged for me to have some credit here?"

The lady squinted at the card.

"Ah yes! I remember this, a very fine dressed young woman, looked like she'd just gotten off a horse. Yes, dear, what is it you'll be wanting?"

"Well…"

"Is it for a project?"

"Yes, a personal one. I'm embroidering a nightgown, and I wanted to choose some embroidery threads, and some ribbon."

"Lovely. What sort of colours did you have in mind?"

Thinking back over her conversation, Anna made a swift decision.

"Pink. Rose pink."

"Come have a look over here…"

Ten minutes later, Anna was well equipped with a thick length of pink ribbon, fine sharp needles and a matching skein of thread. There were also two small patterns, to show her how to fold the ribbon into small bundles to look like roses, and how to mark out and embroider the pattern of a rose into the fabric.

"Very pretty they look too," said Mrs Rawlins. "My Lucy learned how to make one of those ribbon posies last time she was home for a visit, looked just as good as the real thing."

Mr Bates, true to his word, was waiting for her.

"A successful visit?"

"Yes, very."

"What did you buy?"

Anna grinned up at him, teasing. "You'll have to wait until it's finished before I show you."

"Am I to be allowed to see it?"

A treacherous blush spread across her cheeks.

"I hope so."

The sadness was back in his eyes again.

"Well. Then, I shall hope so too."


	4. Chapter 4

Christmas

By Christmas, Anna still hadn't found time to begin her work on the dress. Privacy in and of itself was so difficult. She did not want to bring it down to the servant's hall, displaying her private work to everyone. She could imagine Mr Carson's face if she brought our her own nightdress to begin her embroidery in front of the footmen. And Thomas would sneer, and O'Brien make some comment about how she wouldn't bother with such useless fancy work when nobody would see it.

The only time she had for it was the last ten minutes before tea, when she changed from her day dress into her evening dress, and by then she felt so grubby and her hands so worn that she hated to risk snagging the fabric.

Still, she was in no hurry. The only man she ever dreamed of seeing her wear it was still married to someone else and doing his best to keep his distance from her. Not very successfully mind, so there was still hope. And other than hope, there was nothing but time.

On Christmas Day, the staff gathered over breakfast to exchange gifts. They were small, inexpensive for the most part, tokens of affection between a group who lived in such close quarters as to count one another as family.

She had hoped for a gift from Mr Bates. She had chosen one for him, a worked leather bookmark, something to mark his place in his books without having to turn the corners and damage the paper.

"Thank you Anna, I shall put this to good use," he tucked it into the pages of his current read, smoothing it between the pages.

"And … this is for you. I hope that you like it."

The fragrance was heady, Anna guessed what was in the parcel before she even opened it.

Soap. Not just any soap. Yardley's Lavender, the same that Lady Mary used. The last word in soap. Fresh, clean and so much more inviting than the carbolic soap stocked by the house for use by the servants.

"Oh Mr Bates it's lovely, thank you so much!"

"Well… you deserved something lovely."

Anna's smile deepened, as she wrapped the soap and hurried to take it upstairs so that the smell didn't linger over Christmas luncheon. Stashed in the bottom drawer, Anna smiled to think how the lovely scent would seep into her precious gown.

Later on, when there was a few spare minutes before tea, she washed her hands with it in the privacy of her own room, marvelling at how soft and clean her fingers felt. Pulling the nightgown out of the drawer, she began to stitch the first rose into the waistline.


	5. Chapter 5

Wedding Night

Alone at last in the beautiful room which Mary had granted and Jane had prepared for her, Anna unwrapped the parcel she had smuggled along the corridor.

It had taken years to make.

Anna traced her fingers over the roses, recalling all of the conversations that she and Mr Bates… John… had shared.

" _Roses make me think of home…"_

She followed the line of the sweet pink ones, the darker tiny ones around the neckline, the occasional pale yellow ones which punctuated the pattern.

This had been years in the making. Much like them. With long frustrated pauses, separations, hesitations and uncertainty. For years she had patiently stitched her hopes and wishes into every flower and hoped, fervently, that the wait for happiness and fulfilment was now over.

Slowly she stripped off her sweat-stained uniform, washed herself using a new bar of Yardley's soap, an uncharacteristic extravagance from her trip into Rippon, but one which was utterly essential, then settled the nightgown over her head and around her body. She turned to look in the long glass set into the wardrobe door.

She felt beautiful. For the first time in her life.

She hoped he would find her beautiful too. She knew his heart was hers, after long years of waiting. But the last lingering doubt remained. He had said no when she had offered to be his mistress. Repeatedly Did he really want her? In that way?

Wrapping her old shawl around her shoulders, she sat nervously at the end of the bed, waiting.

…

Bates walked as quickly as he could, favouring his sore leg so as not to make too much noise with his cane.

He knew the note was Anna's. It was scented with lavender, written in the same hand as all the valentines cards he had received since his arrival at Downton.

" _Rippon room. Tonight after bedtime. Be quick and don't be seen."_

Cautiously, he knocked, softly.

"Come in"

It was Anna's voice. Timid and soft, tinged with nerves.

"Anna, what have... Oh my word..."

Bates was speechless, hurriedly closing the door behind him. The candles, the beauty of the linens and fabrics, the rich colours of the room were all a delight to his comfort starved senses, but none moreso than the beautiful little woman waiting for him.

Her hair hung in a loose plait over her shoulder, just as it had when he had taken up the tray of dinner for her all those years ago. Her shawl wrapped around her shoulders was the same. He'd wanted to take her in his arms that night so long ago, and now he could...

"It's a wedding present," she said shyly. "From Lady Mary, and Jane."

She pulled the shawl closer around her.

"Anna..."

He came towards her and took her hand. She was shaking.

"Anna I know that we are married, but if you are not ready..."

"Mr Bates," she stepped towards him, placing a finger on his lips. "John. I have been ready for this since the day I met you. Since the first time you saw me in my nightgown. I knew then that you were the only man I would ever want, would ever love, and now you are my husband. I am your wife. Exactly as we always should have been."

He was breathless, stunned by the glow of her happiness, feeling his own shimmer in his blood.

She bit her lip with a shy grin.

"Do you remember... years ago, you walked me to the village and I bought ribbons and threads?"

He did remember. He had spoken to her of the roses his mother grew, how they were his favourite flower. It had been so long since he had shared anything of himself with anyone, even in conversation. He had known even then that Anna was special.

"I do. You promised to show me what you made. Did you ever finish it?"

"I did," she whispered, stepping backwards from him. "And now you can see it."

She dropped the shawl.

The gown she wore was of the finest material, well fitted and covered with roses. Pink ones, white, yellow, all trailing across the fabric, with little knots of ribbon here and there.

His eyes were transfixed, he was dimly aware that she still spoke, while his eyes raked over her, taking in her shape and curves as well as the dainty and exquisite work she had put into her apparel.

"Some girls make their own wedding gowns... I didn't have time or chance for that, but … I've known for years I wanted this for my wedding night."

"Roses...?"

"For you. Your favourite."

"But this must have taken..."

"Years," she finished for him. He met her eyes, shining with ancient tears,

"Now do you believe me, Mr Ba... John," She smiled at her correction. "Now do you believe me, John, that I have longed to be your wife, longed for you, with every single stitch."

She was moving towards him, folding into his arms so naturally.

"I have stitched your roses into my dreams, my love..."

The scent of her, the soft lavender, filled his senses as she stretched up to kiss him.

John's hands slid over her gown, tracing the delicate works, the softness of the fabric, as he explored the curves of her waist, the side of her ribcage. The kiss deepened, his tongue tracing over her lips, asking permission for more.

Anna opened her mouth to him without hesitation, wanting him to know all of her, offering herself to him without restraint. Her pliancy, eagerness and clear need of him was overwhelming.

The kiss ended with her entwined in his arms, both of them breathless and shaking.

"Well then, my darling wife..." John smiled down into her eyes, motioning towards the ample sized double bed. "Shall we?"

Laid out beside him, looking up into his face with such trust, he could not believe that she was finally his.

"This..." Anna bit her lip, as she always did when she was nervous. "This is new to me, John. But … I love you. And I trust you. And... I've wanted to be close to you for so long. Just... show me what to do?"

He gathered her in for a kiss.

"My darling girl," he smiled down at her, stroking her face. "All of this... it only has one rule really. If you don't like any of it, don't do it. If you don't feel comfortable with something, don't do it. And if you don't enjoy what I do, just tell me, and I will stop."

"Is that all?"

"That is all. And all that ever shall be. If you are not enjoying yourself, or taking pleasure in anything that we do, then there is no point in it for me, none at all."

John traced his finger over the vines and petals of her nightdress, admiring both their visual beauty and the shape of his wife. Anna relaxed into his arms, enjoying the feeling of her husband's touch. It was slow, gentle, but so warm and welcome.

"So many colours..."

"I looked them up, in one of Lord Grantham's library books."

"Oh?"

"The pink ones mean romance..."

John's hand spread flat, gently stroking over the pink blooms across her stomach, moving up towards her gently rounded breasts.

"And what about the red ones...?" his voice was soft, hot with desire against her ear, causing her hairs to stand on end as his fingers gently teased through the fabric against her nipples.

"They are for love..." Anna whispered, her eyes closing. "...and passion..."

"And..." John gently moved his hand lower, down towards the yellow roses that bloomed around her hips, "what about these...?"

The sensation of John's fingers teasing around the tops of her thighs made Anna squirm in his arms. The hot rushes in her blood were stronger versions of the warm stirrings in her stomach which she had felt every time he kissed her, or even took her hand in his.

"The yellow ones... friendship."

John paused for a second, taken aback. Anna's eyes met his, wide and glowing, her breath rising and falling under his touch.

"Friendship?"

"Of course. You are my best friend..."

Gazing down into her eyes, anxious to see every sensation that passed over her face, John slowly moved his hand further down, dipping under the hem of her gown. Anna tensed at the touch of his hand against the inside of her thighs, but slowly parted her legs a little, allowing him to touch her further. She moaned softly, her eyes closing as his hand slid gently upwards, his thumb teasing across the entrance to her sex.

A shiver passed through him when he realised she was already damp and so ready for his touch. Moving so slowly, he found the little bud of nerves and brushed against it.

Anna's breath caught in her throat, she tensed against him. Her hands clutched at him, binding him close to her.

"You are the most beautiful flower of all, my love," he whispered in her ear, teasing a finger into her with aching slowness. "And if you let me show you, I will help you to bloom."

Anna nodded, conscious thought lost to her, knowing only that she wanted more of him, more of his touch, his body against hers, and that something which felt so right could never in any scripture be wrong.

The spreading of the heat through her body and the expressions it chased across her face were one of the most beautiful sights John had ever seen, as his fingers teased and stroked his wife to the heights of her pleasure for the very first time. She lay next to him, panting, her cheeks as red as the roses on her gown. Her eyes opened, bright and alive, her lips flushed where she had bitten them to keep from crying out. She had almost succeeded.

"Oh..." she said softly. "Is it always like this?"

Her innocence touched him greatly.

"I will do my best to make it like this for you, every time."

Anna snuggled into him, giggling to herself as a button grazed against her nose.

"Mr Bates, you don't seem to be properly undressed for this sort of activity!"

Chuckling to himself, he moved to sit beside her.

"Here... let me..."

Anna's nimble fingers made short work of his buttons and clasps, as item after item of clothing was shed. She giggled again.

"What's so funny, Mrs Bates?" he teased gently.

"Your buttons are all the wrong way around, compared to women's clothes. I'm used to undressing young ladies, not a man."

John smiled, capturing her hands in one of his, reaching out to brush her hair from her face as he had dreamed of doing so many times.

"I hope you will have a lot of practice with this man."

"And no other," Anna sealed the promise with a kiss.

Pushing back the covers, they climbed into bed, John still in his underclothes, Anna in her nightgown. The nervous look returned.

"Don't be afraid, my love," John drew her closer to him. "If you are not comfortable..."

"...I know. I can say stop. But the thing is, John..."

He looked down into her face, knowing every little part of her face so well.

"What?"

"The thing is... I don't want to stop..."

The kiss that followed was borne of release, the years of built up tension, self control and denial in both of them swept away in a torrent. Anna's hands tore off his undershirt, running over his chest, shivering at how hairy and warm his body felt against hers. John felt his own hands shaking, as he bent to cover her neck and as much of her shoulder as he could reach with hot kisses, tasting at her with his tongue, teasing her with his teeth.

Moving further down, he kissed at her breasts through the thin material of her nightdress, feeling her writhe beneath him, her head tipping back, pressing closer into his caresses. Anna's nails ran over his back, pulling him closer against her, teasing down towards the base of his spine. She could feel his own sex pressed up against her thighs, hot and swollen for her.

"Anna..." John gasped, barely able to keep his hands off her. "Oh Anna, my love, my wife..."

Shifting to lay her beneath him, John caught at the hem of her dress once more, this time moving it up towards her waist. His fingers stroked over her thighs and hips, up to cradle her waist.

He paused, hot and trembling, eyes burning like coals as they sought hers, a silent last permission. Anna understood, and nodded.

Slowly, John drew the gown up and over her head, tossing it to one side. Beautiful as it was, it was nothing compared to the sight of his wife, laid in bed beside him, naked save for her wedding band, eager for him, wanting him.

Shyly her hands tugged at the waistband of his underwear. Shucking out of them, John moved to lie above her, offering one last prayer to what benevolent God had sent this woman into his world that his leg would hold out and he would not hurt her.

Anna felt her husband's unfamiliar weight settle between her legs and the unfamiliar sensation of him pressing against her. Shifting her hips slightly, the touch of his own intimate flesh against hers caused her to gasp. Before John could stop, to check it was what she wanted, she had silenced his unvoiced query with a kiss, locking her arms around him.

It felt like coming home. Being together. Part of each other.

As though their bodies were now experiencing everything their hearts and minds had known for years. They they were one. Always meant to be one, in law, in scripture and in their own physical world.

Afterwards, as they floated back to earth, John marvelled at the sight of her lying next to him. She was so far above him. So much greater than him.

"John?"

She reached out and touched his face gently.

"What are you thinking?"

He smiled across at her, thinking of the roses which were currently scattered across the bedroom floor, hoping he would make them bloom for her for the rest of their lives together.

"Well, Mrs Bates," he said softly. "You've finally had your way with me."

FIN


End file.
